


mugdhakriti

by toujours_nigel



Category: Mahabharata - Vyasa
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 16:15:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18575044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toujours_nigel/pseuds/toujours_nigel
Summary: Age has only bettered Bhima, broadened his shoulders and strengthened his arms.





	mugdhakriti

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MayavanavihariniHarini](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayavanavihariniHarini/gifts).



Hidimbi is not young when she meets Bhima, not by human standards, nor by those of her own long-lived folk. And he is, oh young enough, not thirty years from the day he cracked the earth with the weight of his birthing. His arms that will be like the trunks of great trees are like saplings of five years’ growth. He is too unformed for one such as she, but she watches him fighting and thinks, “yes, him.” He is of a clan too often loved by inhuman women, but in the moment he is merely beautiful and she ignorant.

 

“Your mother grew you from a god’s seed,” she exults one drowsy morning in the first year of their marriage while he lies in her arms. “That is why you are so strong. When I saw you battling Hidimba, I should have known you were no mere mortal.”

He laughs. She loves his laugh, the belly-shaking gusto of it, the way it shakes their bed. “All of us are god-touched. My strength comes from a Naga-elixir.”

“The Nagas are good judges of people,” she says, laughing in turn. “As am I. You are a wind that blows away dead leaves.”

 

He leaves when their son is a week old, a week longer than she thought to keep him.

He is enchanted by Ghatotkacha, which she had expected, but Kunti and the Pandavas take turns to hold him son in their arms and murmur blessings. A great wonderment, and she is weak enough from birthing him to be shocked by it, helplessly vulnerable to unexpected love.

She does not weep when Kunti—in truth a child to her, and in greater truth a mother—kisses her brow in parting.

Bhima lingers, irresolute.

“Go,” she commands, and is alone with her heir.

 

“Your palace is dazzling,” she tells Bhima.

He had been surprised to find her in the sad remnants of Khandava, and she is of no mind to tell him that she waited two years to make the journey, forged alliances and ensured Ghatotkacha’s safety. It is risky to be so far from home and her people, but she had to witness the devastation herself. Her husband, his family who had wept in leaving her, she could not believe the news when she heard it.

“Come with me,” he urges. “You must meet Draupadi, and our cousin Krishna.”

“No, only you.”

 

“You eat humans!”

It has been years since they met last, but he has never had any talent for deceit. Hidimbi blinks at him, startled. Ghatotkacha has retired, and though she is hungry still, other apetites are making themselves urgently known. Age has bettered Bhima, layered muscle on his thighs and carved his calves into... ah, no.

“We met because Hidimba wanted to eat you,” she reminds him. “It was decades ago, but I had thought that memorable.”

“I did not know you shared his tastes,” he grumbles.

“I am a rakshashi," she laughs. "You humans are delicious to us.”


End file.
